"My master commonly receives the ladies here," he said. "Enter,
eccellenza, while I run to tell him of his happiness."
Gelsomina did not hesitate, though she felt a violent throb at the heart
when she heard the key turning in the lock behind her. She was in an
ante-chamber, and inferring from the light which shone through the door
of an adjoining room that she was to proceed, she went on. No sooner had
she entered the little closet than she found herself alone, with one of
her own sex.
"Annina!" burst from the lips of the unpractised prison-girl, under the
impulse of surprise.
"Gelsomina! The simple, quiet, whispering, modest Gelsomina!" returned
the other.
The words of Annina admitted but of one construction. Wounded, like the
bruised sensitive plant, Gelsomina withdrew her mask for air, actually
gasping for breath, between offended pride and wonder.
"Thou here!" she added, scarce knowing-what she uttered.
"Thou here!" repeated Annina, with such a laugh as escapes the degraded
when they believe the innocent reduced to their own level.
"Nay, I come on an errand of pity."
"Santa Maria! we are both here with the same end!"
"Annina! I know not what thou would'st say! This is surely the palace of
Don Camillo Monforte! a noble Neapolitan, who urges claims to the honors
of the Senate?"
"The gayest, the handsomest, the richest, and the most inconstant
cavalier in Venice! Hadst thou been here a thousand times thou could'st
not be better informed!"
Gelsomina listened in horror.
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